


So Let Me

by deanharrisackles



Series: Prospect Park Verse [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, reference to panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4508544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanharrisackles/pseuds/deanharrisackles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The road to recovery isn't always smooth. Good thing Steve's there to help out. </p>
<p>Timestamp to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3648945">Prospect Park</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	So Let Me

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say, I just love my park'verse boys! It's not a lot, just a little bit of fluff that I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> This is un-beta'd so all mistakes are my own.

Steve really needs to do something with that leftover Thai food because it’s really making his office stink. He should drop if off at the break room sooner rather than later or at least make Bucky take the food with him next time; he’s sure Sam would appreciate the scraps, that man is always on the lookout for free food. It’s probably and good thing he hasn’t met Barton yet. The world just might explode when they do. Or maybe instead of Bucky bringing food before his session, Steve can convince his boyfriend to go out for lunch rather take out in his office. That would make for a nice change.

With a sigh, Steve pushes up from his chair and grabs the plastic bag off the corner of his desk. It’s only a couple of slobber free egg rolls and a half eaten container of Drunken Noodles but there is bound to be someone in this hospital looking for food; some over worked nurse or orderly who can munch on his leftovers – even if they have been sitting out for a few hours. It’s probably harmless and pawning it off is much better than just throwing it away – hopefully.

The break room is empty save for a familiar face nursing a cup of coffee at the table. Steve smiles at his friend, grateful that he doesn’t have to travel down three floors to find him; his feet are really killing him today and searching for Sam is normally like trying to find a needle in a haystack. 

“Hey man.” Sam says with a nod.

“Hey,” Steve replies holding up the bag of food. “Want some noodles?”

“That the lunch Bucky brought you like four hours ago?”

“Maybe.” Steve shrugs, sticking the bag of food in the fridge.

“And now you’re trying to pawn off your rank ass food to some poor unsuspecting victim. Man I thought you were a doctor, you know that’s not healthy.”

“They don’t have to know besides, it’s better than just throwing it away.” He tries to argue. Really, it wasn’t sitting out for that long. It’s harmless…most likely.

Sam shakes his head, hiding his smile behind his coffee cup. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Well if whoever eats it gets sick – and that’s a big if,” Steve says leaning up against the fridge. “It’s a good thing they work in a hospital.”

Sam hums in agreement. “Hey, so I heard back from my buddy down at the V.A. he says he’s got an opening if you and Bucky are serious about getting Pancake certified but he can hold the spot for a week.”

“Yeah definitely, I mean, we still need to work out all the details but we are definitely interested.”

It had been an idea Steve brought up a few weeks after Bucky and Pancake moved in: get Pancake certified as a service dog. With Bucky actually going into an office two days a week it seemed like a good idea to have Pancake there to help out if he gets caught up in a panic attack – and Bucky wholeheartedly agreed. Anything that could potentially help him get over his fear and recover was A okay in his book. Sam, likewise, had been completely on board with the plan, looking into places where they could take Pancake and get him trained up. It is definitely good news to hear that Sam had found someone in such a short amount of time, so good in fact that Steve is pretty sure Bucky is gonna hit the roof when he tells him tonight.

“Well, I’d hold off on talking about it tonight.” Sam says before taking a sip from his cup, freezing Steve’s excitement in its tracks. A cold tendril of fear creeps down his spine, his mind jumping to the worst possible scenarios – a trait he’s learned from Bucky, the reigning master of jumping to the worst possible conclusion.

“Did he have a bad day?” Steve asks, already planning out a course of action, his happy attitude replaced with panic and worry.

“We’ve had better days and we’ve had worse.” Sam replies standing up and refilling his cup. “Just take it easy tonight, he’ll be alright.”

Steve nods, biting his lip. He has the urge to turn and run back to his house, to wrap Bucky up in his arms and keep him safe from the things in his mind. Sam seems to notice his growing distress and waves him away. “Go on,” he says with a chuckle. “Go see your boy. Tell him the good news over breakfast or something.”

“I will, thanks Sam.” Steve says before turning on his heel and all but running from the room. He makes it home at breakneck speeds all the while trying to calm himself down. Steve knows that if he comes home all worked up Bucky is going to feel guilty and tailspin into a self destructive mood, something Steve wants to avoid at all costs because the last person who needs to have blame placed on them is Bucky. So Steve takes a few calming breaths and reassures himself that it’s not as bad as it seems. After all, Sam did say that it wasn’t the worst day Bucky’s had but it still wasn’t good. Of course just the thought of Bucky home alone and hurting is enough to having him pushing down on the gas pedal a little harder than normal.

By the time he pulls into the garage Steve has managed to collect his thoughts and form a plan of action guaranteed to pull Bucky from any funk he’s found himself in. He takes the steps two at a time and pushes the basement door open in a hurry. The only light on downstairs is the kitchen lights, thawing chicken and a box of rice sitting out on the counter ready to be cooked. Steve drops his bag down next to the door and puts the food away, reaching for a menu taped to a cork board on the wall. The tinny sounds of the bedroom T.V. barely audible as he places an order for some take away Italian food.

Once he knows dinner is on its way, Steve makes his way up stairs to their bedroom. He half expects to see Bucky bundled up in every blanket they own staring off into space; thankfully that is not the case. Bucky is sitting on the bed, his back resting against the headboard, Pancake’s head resting on his lap. On the T.V an episode of Cupcake Wars is playing – a clear sign that Bucky’s headspace is not as bad as Steve had feared.

“Hey Buck.” Steve says leaning against the door jam. Bucky pulls his eyes away from the show and smiles.

“Hiya Stevie.” He responds, Pancake lifting his head in hello. “Good day?”

“Can’t complain. How ‘bout you?”

Bucky rolls his lips before answering. “Okay I guess.” He shrugs.

“I talked to Sam.” Steve says pushing away from the door frame and settling down on the bed, giving Pancake loving scratches behind the ears. “He told me you had a rough session.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Bucky huffs, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder. “Just you know…not the best.”

Steve kisses the top of Bucky’s head. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not now.” Bucky sighs, melting into Steve’s side. “I got some chicken out for dinner.”

“I saw but I was thinking we should order in some Italian tonight.”

“You don’t have to baby me when I have a bad day Steve.” Bucky grumbles.

“I know,” Steve says kissing him again. “But my feet hurt and I’m tired. I don’t feel like cooking.”

“You wouldn’t be cooking anyways you punk.” Bucky bites his shoulder playfully. “You can’t even make Easy Mac.”

“Okay then, I’m just really craving some La Villa ravioli. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. How about that?”

“Well gee, way to make a guy feel special.” Bucky fronts, tilting his head up so Steve can see his pouty lips.

“You’re such a jerk.” Steve laughs before swooping in and kissing that pout away. It’s slow and sweet, Bucky’s hand tracing lazy circles on Steve’s chest. When they break apart, Steve blinks at him owlishly, smiling at the heat blooming across Bucky’s cheeks. “Come with me?” he asks in a low voice.

“Where?” Bucky asks looking confused.

“Shower.” Steve tells him. “Gotta wash this hospital stink off.”

Bucky nods, letting Steve pull him up from the bed and lead him into the bathroom. Steve can see the exhaustion hiding behind Bucky’s grey blue eyes, the tight lines framing his lips. He knows that when a session goes sour, Bucky’s not really up for doing anything and Steve would never, ever push that. He gives Bucky room to breathe and relax, always nearby to lend his shoulder. And sometimes, he needs to step in and help Bucky decompress and that is one thing Steve knows how to help with.

Carefully, Steve grabs the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt and pulls it up over his head, doing the same to his pants. He kisses the seam of flesh and metal, running his hands up and down Bucky’s arms.

“I know what you’re doing.” Bucky whispers, his head falling back as Steve kiss up his neck. “You’re babying me again.”

“Not babying, taking care of you.” Steve murmurs against his skin.

“You don’t have too.”

“I know but I want to. So shut and let me.” Steve says pulling away to take his own clothes off and turn on the shower. He waits until the water is the perfect temperate before grabbing Bucky’s hand and shepherding him into the stall. Bucky let’s himself be maneuvered, Steve positioning him under the hot spray of the water.

The water must feel like heaven against Bucky’s tight muscles, Steve watching him roll his shoulders in relief as he reaches out for the shampoo. He squirts a liberal amount onto his palm, the fresh scent of citrus filling the air. Steve turns Bucky around so that his tanned back is facing him and begins to work the shampoo into his brown locks. A quiet groan slips past Bucky’s lips as Steve massages the shampoo into his boyfriend’s scalp and a painstakingly slow pace. He watches as Bucky’s whole body begins to sag, the tension of the day melting away. It brings a smile to Steve’s face. Just by the work of his hands in his hair, Steve can help Bucky relax and bring him out of the funk that has taken a hold. It’s him and only him that can do this and Steve loves it. He loves Bucky, more than anything in the world and there is no better way to show his affection that this right here.

“We talked about my time at Hydra.” Bucky says his voice barely audible over the rush of water. “After they took over S.H.E.I.L.D., what it was like working there after everyone I knew left.”

“Yeah?” Steve encourages, spinning Bucky around gently until he is facing him, tilting his head back to wash out the suds.

“Yeah, I told him how awful it was working with Peirce and his people. Talked about how little they cared for the author, the story, how they only cared about the bottom line. How I felt like a traitor for sticking around, how guilty I felt.”

“It wasn’t your fault Buck; they had you stuck in a contract.” Steve reassures him as he drags his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

Bucky closes his eyes, his jaw clenching. “I know, I know but I still felt the guilt…still do.” Bucky says with a sigh as Steve begins to run a soapy wash cloth over his chest and arms. He’ll worry about washing his own hair and body after he’d finished with his top priority. Right now Bucky needs all of his attention and devotion.

“Is that what made today so difficult?” Steve questions, dragging the cloth down the muscles of Bucky’s legs. “That feeling of guilt?”

“I guess,” Bucky shrugs, watching the soap disappear down the drain. “And being reminded how long I let myself work for that company. It was just hard to swallow, that’s all.”

Steve stands up gracefully, blinking water out of his eyes. “What did Sam say?” 

“He said I shouldn’t blame myself, that I did nothing wrong. If I left with everyone else I would have broken the contract and faced a lawsuit so it was all out of my hands.”

“He’s right you know.” Steve tells him, taking the washcloth and lathering up his own body quickly. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“I know but it still sucks you know.” Bucky agrees squirting some shampoo into his hands and reaching out for Steve’s head.

“Bucky, you don’t-”

“Shut up and let me baby you.”

“Not babying-” Steve interjects, his eyes fluttering at the feel of Bucky’s fingers on his body.

Bucky snorts, tipping Steve’s head back, his metal hand holding onto Steve’s chin like it was made of glass. “Yeah, yeah I know. I’m taking care of you, so shut up and let me.”

“Not fair,” Steve whispers in his ear before kissing him on the cheek. “You stole my line.”

“Them’s the breaks.” Bucky says slapping him playfully on the ass, clearly feeling better than he did when Steve first got home. “So are we gonna stay in here until we’re pruney or did I hear you say something about La Villa?”

“Now there’s the Bucky I know and love.” Steve smiles, turning off the water. He makes sure to wrap Bucky up in his favorite fluffy towel before following him out into the bedroom. A pair of boxers gets thrown at his face, followed by Bucky’s insane crackling. Steve peels them off with a disgusted expression and tossed them back only to have his dirty scrubs flung at his head. With a growl, Steve yanks the wet towel from around his waist and chucks it at Bucky’s smug face. He grunts, falling indignantly on his ass from the force of Steve’s throw. It’s Steve’s turn to laugh like a mad man – and he does, in all of his naked glory.

“Oh it’s on now Rogers.” Bucky says getting to his knees, gathering his ammo from the floor. 

Steve takes cover behind his side of the bed as Bucky launches more clothes over his way. Pancake dances around between them, barking with excitement – getting knocked in the head by a pair of socks every now and again.

They are in the thick of the battle, Steve gathering an impressive pile of both dirty and clean clothes to use, when the door bell rings loudly from downstairs. The pair of jeans in Steve’s hand falls limply to the floor. Bucky looks over at him wide eyed, taking in Steve’s still naked form. The door bell rings again, followed by an insistent knocking.

“Shit.” Steve hisses reaching for the closest pair of pants he can find and throwing them on. Bucky, being his usual helpful self, dissolves into a fit of giggles. “Yeah laugh it up jerk,” he says pulling a t-shirt that smells overwhelmingly like Bucky. “I should be sending you down to get it.”

Bucky fake pouts between his laughter. “But I thought you were taking care of me? You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“I’m seriously reconsidering.” Steve grunts before thundering down the stairs to answer the door. The delivery guy gives him a bored stare when Steve has to run back into the house to grab his wallet. By the time the food has been paid for and the delivery guy is generously tipped, Bucky and Pancake have made their way down stairs (fully dressed) and situated on the couch. Steve collapses against the front door, listening to the sounds of Chopped coming from the T.V.

“You can get the food next time.” He says pushing off the door and setting the containers down on the coffee table. Bucky is wrapped up in a blanket with Pancake resting by his feet. “’Cuz I’m not doing that again.”

“But you did it so beautifully. Plus I think the delivery guy appreciated seeing your fly down.” Bucky says without taking his eyes off the screen. Steve’s eyes snap down to his crotch only to see the grey fabric of his sweatpants.

“You’re such a jerk.” Steve says pushing him as he sits down.

“I know but, you love me.”

Steve chuckles and reaches for their food, handing Bucky his container. “That I do pal, that I do.”

They eat in comfortable silence, only speaking to comment on what the contestants are doing wrong or what’s going to get them chopped. He has Bucky to blame for getting him hooked on this damn show – with it being his go to coping method it’s nearly always on and the DVR is practically filled with taped episodes. But as it turns out, the show is really addicting, each episode blending into the next; Steve is compelled to keep watching to see what crazy thing the chef’s whip up next. It’s starting to be a problem.

Occasionally Pancake’s head will pop up looking for scraps that Bucky feeds to him without a second glace. Between the two of them, that dog has got to be the most spoiled pup in the world. Always getting the best scraps from the table and an endless supply of belly rubs at any time of day. It won’t be long before he starts getting a complex, start thinking that he runs the house. But truth be told, he already does. Steve and Bucky are suckers for his puppy dog eyes and he knows it.

Steve knows he could bring up the good news about getting Pancake trained now that Bucky is relaxed and no longer wound up, but he doesn’t feel like breaking the mood. It’s comfortable now, their bellies full of some old world Italian food, there’s no need to start a potential argument. It’s not that Bucky will disagree per se but it is a big decision that should be agreed upon when they are both in the right head space to talk about it. Plus he guesses that before the dessert round is over Bucky will be slouched over and out like a light. Nothing puts Bucky to sleep faster than a hot shower and some comfort food.

Sure enough, the dessert round baskets haven’t even been opened yet when Steve feels pressure on his shoulder. He looks down to see Bucky’s lax face pressed against his t-shirt, sleeping like a baby. As carefully as he can, Steve places the empty food containers on the coffee table before tucking Bucky under his arm. The man barely finches as he is adjusted, just lets out a content sigh when the movement stops and snuggles in closer. Steve gets through two more episodes before Pancake jumps up on his lap, his growing paws digging into his thigh. He gives Steve a few licks to the face before settling down in his lap and falling asleep, snoring softly just like his daddy.

Steve lets them sleep for a little while longer (he really wants to see who wins this episode) before shaking Bucky gently, his eyes blinking open sluggishly.

“S’ up?” he croaks. “Who won?”

“That French guy.” Steve smiles at the sleep lines on Bucky’s face. “The other guy made ice cream – didn’t work out too well for him.”

“Psh,” Bucky says sitting up and waving his hand. “Rookie mistake… time for bed?”

“I think so.” Steve yaws loudly. Bucky nods, gathering Pancake up into his arms. With his free hand he pulls Steve up from the couch and leads him the stairs. Steve follows willingly.

In their room, Bucky dumps Pancake in his doggie bed, giving him a loving scratch behind his ear. Steve turns down the covers and slips between the cool sheets as Bucky hits the lights. Seconds later Bucky’s there, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and resting his head on his chest. Steve kisses the top of Bucky’s hair, breathing in the sweet smell of their shampoo.

“Thank you.” Bucky mumbles against him.

Steve holds Bucky tighter. “For what?”

“You know what, helping me today.”

“I always will Buck, you know that.” Steve says earnestly. “I love you.”

“I love you too pal.” Bucky says sleepily.

Steve smiles, his eyes closing. He falls asleep not long after that, Bucky wrapped around him like his favorite blanket, snoring softly in his ear.


End file.
